


Wish

by ValAishlym



Series: 30 Days with Noah Lavellan [17]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Heartache, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValAishlym/pseuds/ValAishlym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he ever wanted was to be the reason he smiled.</p><p>Day 17 - Stars</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm...I don't know why....but I want to see this go farther. Maybe? Eh...what do you guys think?

**Char: Cullen & Noah**

**30 Days of Noah**

**Wish**

**(verb)**

**feel or express a strong desire or hope for something that is not easily attainable; want something that cannot or probably will not happen.**

He was cunning, strong, and loyal. In his eyes, he was the perfect example of what a leader should be; a perfect example of a warrior. His poise was strong, his stride oozed confidence and discipline. He had a voice that demanded to be heard: a strong, commanding voice that left no room for arguing. One that assured you: this man would lead you to victory.

“Noah.” 

Whenever he was addressed by that strong voice, he nearly melted in his boots. He wanted to always be on the receiving end of that voice, to be possessed by this man in both body and soul - and yet…-

“Noah…”

A soft whisper in his ear. So sensual, so gentle, so rough…

“Noah…”

Just a sigh - a pleasurable moan. The voice entrapped him in a snare of pure desire.

There were hands on his legs, bringing them to incircle a narrow waist. A single arm thrown around a broad shoulder, the other clawing at a strong back.

“…Noah…so tight…”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. That power, that raw strength he wanted to possess, between his legs - pushing and pulling, taking and giving - and yet… 

Light green eyes opened to half mass. Blonde. He ran one of his hands through silky blonde hair. Beautiful blonde hair belonging to that strong, loyal, and cunning man.

He gasped, his eyes screwing shut tight at a particularly hard thrust.

“Are you…well?”

Always worrying. It brings a smile to his lips. Worrying about everything but his own well being. Sharing the burden of leading - something he hadn’t the need to do but did do.

“… _Don’t…stop…._ ”

“Hmm…As you command…”

So close. His legs close tighter, his hands grip harder. The blonde hair is wretched from his grasp, the owner having moved back. Green eyes open slightly to stare into…into…blue eyes.

It’s wrong. They’re not supposed to be blue. The illusion is shattered. 

Tears well up in his eyes as he screws them tight, hoping to bring the illusion back. The man is clean shaved, shoulder length blonde hair, with bright, sparkling, blue eyes. It’s all wrong…and yet…

“Noah!”

“C-Cullen…” he gasps, his low cry of the man’s name going unheard under the other’s shout. He feels warmth flood his bowels. The man pulls out and he’s left empty. 

Noah lays on his back, staring up at ceiling trying to catch his breath. The man lays on his side, caressing his body.

“Up for another round, again?”

Its not the same. He can’t even bring the images back. The eyes…They’re not supposed to be blue…and yet…

Noah quickly gets up and throws his clothes back on. He puts on a hooded cape and turns back towards the man.

“Coming back anytime soon? You’re my favorite customer.” The man grins.

_And yet he keeps coming back._

_“_ Maybe,” Noah mumbles. He walks to the door. He places his hand on the door handle but pauses. “W…What’s your name?”

“Cailan.”

_It was just the hair…and yet…._

Noah left without another word. He walked towards the exit.

“Thanks for visiting The Pearl, I’m sure it was an enjoyable experience.”

Cullen wasn’t Cailan…

He was cunning, strong, and loyal. In his eyes, he was the perfect example of what a leader should be; a perfect example of a warrior. His poise was strong, his stride oozed confidence and discipline. He had a voice that demanded to be heard: a strong, commanding voice that left no room for arguing. One that assured you: this man would lead you to victory.

He had short blonde hair and amber eyes.

Whenever he was addressed by that strong voice, he nearly melted in his boots. He wanted to always be on the receiving end of that voice, to be possessed by this man in both body and soul. He wanted him - and yet…-

He was not what the man wanted. And never would he be.


End file.
